


Chaos

by seren_ccd



Series: Fundamentals [3]
Category: Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-01
Updated: 2014-04-04
Packaged: 2018-01-17 20:19:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1401190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seren_ccd/pseuds/seren_ccd
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What happened, she wonders, to get me to where I am now? Did a butterfly fly left instead of right in Australia, and did that kick up some dust and did that get into someone's eyes and did something happen after that, then again and again until I'm here, in the woods of Georgia, this man by my side? Sequel to Gravity and Relativity. Beth/Daryl UST.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Thank you so very much for all the reviews, follows and faves! I’m beyond delighted that folks are enjoying this little series. 
> 
> We’re picking up pretty much where we left off with Beth and Daryl heading after Rick and Co. I’ll be totally honest, I’ve had ‘Love Don’t Die’ by The Fray pretty much on repeat while writing this, so…yeah. 
> 
> I’m going to try to stick with what I know of the Georgia landscape and I’ll probably take some artistic licence with the locations. I’ll also draw in some of the events from the last couple of episodes and see how that goes. 
> 
> I’m not upping the rating just yet – but there will be violence and some bad language. Slightly lighter fare than the tv show, though.
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

He throws his other hand in the air and says, "All right, fine. Let's go find our goddamn fool of a friend, Rick Grimes and his clan."

Beth grins up at Daryl and grips his wrist that’s still holding tight to her head with her hand.  “You mean it?  We’re going after them?”

“We’re going after them,” he says.  “God knows what kinda trouble those three’ll find.  But.”  He pulls her close with the hand on her neck and lowers his voice.  “We’re gonna be smart about this.  We’ll follow the tracks, but we ain’t going to walk on them.  We stick to the woods and we stay quiet.  That means small fires and it ain’t going to be easy.”

“What we’ve been doing is easy?” she asks, raising her eyebrows.

“Hell, yeah,” he says, loosening his grip on the back of her head, but not letting her go.  “This has been a walk in the park, Greene.  If we’re going to go in there and save the day, we’re going in quiet and we’re going to figure out what this group is.  Got me?”

“I got you,” she says nodding.  “I’m with you.”

His hand slides from the back of her head and he just cups her cheek for a minute.  Beth’s stomach tightens and she stares back at him.

“I’m outta my mind,” he murmurs.  “You’re making me lose what mind I got left.”

She squeezes his wrist and just says, “You’d be going after them even if I wasn’t here, Daryl.  So don’t pin all this on me.”  He sighs and she adds, “Fine.  You can pin fifty-five percent of it on me, but that’s it.”

He drops his hand and she smiles at him.

“Fifty-five percent, huh?” he says.  He shakes his head.  “Christ.  Let’s go, if we’re gonna go.”

He heads off the tracks and into the woods, Beth close behind him.

The first couple of hours are spent in silence with Beth getting used to the weight of her new crossbow in her hands.

The sun is high in the sky as Beth and Daryl make their way through the woods, going parallel to the tracks.  The air smells of fall – crisp and smoky.  The leaves are just on the cusp of changing and every now and then Beth catches sight of bright yellows and reds.  The leaves under her boots crackle as she walks beside Daryl and she’s slowly figuring out how to step quietly.  After a half an hour of focusing on her walk and watching Daryl, her steps are practically silent.

He hasn’t said anything since they made the decision to catch up with Rick and he seems content to just walk.

To be honest, Beth isn’t really feeling the need to fill the space with chatter, herself.  The enormity of what they’ve decided to do is settling heavily in her stomach and a sense of dread tickles the back of her neck.

If Daryl’s right, and he usually is, the group they’re following is at least six men strong and while Daryl might be a match for a couple of them, Beth sure isn’t.

Her fingers tighten on the crossbow and she starts to worry at her lip as second thoughts start piling up.

Who is she to decide that they’re going to swoop in and save people?

How bad are these guys that are following Rick, Michonne and Carl?

Maybe they’re not that bad?

What the blazes is Terminus?

What if things go wrong?

What if things go right?

Why didn’t she just plant one on Daryl last night in the treehouse?

She stumbles over her own feet with that one.  Daryl’s hand hovers just under her elbow.

“You’re thinking awful loud over there,” he says, glancing at her.

“I know,” she says around a sigh.

“Second thoughts?”

“A few.”

“Good.”

She glares at him and he shrugs.  “We’re sneaking up on people we don’t know and I doubt they’re the kind who can be swayed by a pretty song.  Better to be on your guard than acting like you’re off to a church meeting.”

“Clearly, you’ve never been to a church meeting,” Beth says with a grin.  “Some of those ladies were fearsome when it came to the proper way to throw a picnic.”

Daryl snorts.  “Never was one for church-going.”

“We always went,” Beth says, her arm accidently brushing up against Daryl’s as they walk. But he doesn’t move away, so neither does she. “It was just how things were.  Get up early on Sunday, do your chores, put on a dress, grab your Bible, and go.”  She smiles.  “Maggie hated wearing dresses.”

“And you loved it,” he says.  It’s not a question.

Beth shrugs.  “I liked feeling the skirt flare out when I spun around.  Mama would try to curl my hair from time to time, but one day she accidently burned my neck with the curling iron and I just decided to grow my hair long and braid it.”

“Noticed that,” he says flicking at the braid she put in her hair before they set out on the tracks.  It’s a shorter one than before due to her new, shorter cut.  If she concentrates, she can still feel the glide of his hand on her back as he trimmed her hair.  It’s enough to make her cheeks flush and she looks away to hide it.  She stares at the woods they’re walking through and frowns.

“Wonder what Terminus is?” she asks.

“Nothing good.”

She sighs.

“Don’t start,” he says shaking his head.  “Just ‘cause we’re all right, don’t mean everyone else is.  In fact,” he says with a smirks, “just you including me in with the good people certainly shows how low civilization has sunk.”

“You are such a pessimist,” she says rolling her eyes.  “But!” She raises her hand when it looks like he’s about to complain. “You have a valid point and I’m not about to running up to whoever we meet and making them a friendship bracelet, so simmer down, Mr. Dixon.”

“Well, thank the Lord for small favors,” he mutters.

They keep walking, only pausing briefly for Beth to try out her new crossbow on a rabbit that’s grazing on beside a scrub pine.  She aims and misses.  The rabbit tears off into the underbrush.

“Damn,” she says frowning.  “It pulls a bit to the left as well as goes to high.”

“Gonna have to compensate,” he says looking the bow over.  “Ain’t nothing I can do to fix the sights on this.”  He makes a face.  “Really ought to get you something better.”

“Well, the second we come across a sporting goods store, I’ll holler,” she says.

They walk on and the next time they spot a rabbit, Beth moves just a little bit closer and aims the bow just to the side and higher.  The arrow hits the rabbit and she grins.

“Yes,” she says under her breath.

“You’re skinning it tonight,” he says as she goes to retrieve the rabbit.

“I know,” she calls over her shoulder.  She grabs the rabbit and hurries to catch up with Daryl as he keeps walking.

When evening starts to settle in, Daryl stops when they come to a small copse of pines and they set up camp.  The scent of the trees is heavy and relaxing as Beth gets the fire going, Daryl setting up a perimeter around them.

 

They’ve managed to stay in line with the train tracks all day, but Daryl doesn’t want to put a timeline on how far behind the others they might be.

“Hard to say,” he says eating some baked beans out of a can and watching Beth skin the rabbit.  “Haven’t had any rain lately, so it keeps the tracks fresh.”

Beth squints up at the darkening sky.  “We must be due some soon, though.  It’s coming on fall.”

“Yeah.” He hands her the rest of the beans after she sets the rabbit on the fire.  “Make it a bitch to walk in though.”

“Did you ever hunt in the rain?” she asks.

“Done lots of stuff in the rain,” he says turning the rabbit.  Beth grins at him and he looks away.  “Shut up.  Ain’t talking about that.”

“Sure you aren’t,” she says.

He glares at her, but the corners of his mouth are turned up, so she just keeps grinning.

They pick the rabbit apart when it’s done and they settle beside each other, leaning against the largest of the pines.

Beth leans against his side and feels giddy when he returns the pressure, inching just that bit closer.

_We’re getting somewhere_ , she thinks.  _Slowly, but surely._

She isn’t just referring to whatever it is going on between them.  No, she also means that something she can feel looming on the horizon.  Something big and life-changing is just around a corner and it’s both terrifying and exciting.

She rubs at her arms through her jacket.

“You cold?” he asks, his voice gone quiet as the night settles in.

“No,” she says.  “Just feeling antsy, I guess.  Something’s going to happen, isn’t it?”

“You’re going to take first watch,” he says, sliding down a bit and closing his eyes.  “That’s what’s going to happen.”

“I mean, down the line,” she says.  “Something’s coming, I can feel it.”

“You gone psychic on me?” he asks, chuckling.  “You gonna charge me money to tell me that I’m going to be rich one day and meet the woman of my dreams at the Dollar General?”

“That’s awful specific,” she says, smiling.  “Besides, I would’ve predicted the local honkeytonk, not the Dollar General.”

He nudges her with his arm still chuckling.

“And no, I’m not psychic,” she says, staring out into the dark woods.  “Just…you know that feeling the air gets, before it rains? All heavy and still?  That’s what I’m feeling.  Like something’s about to rain down on us.”

He’s quiet but she can tell he isn’t sleeping.

“You know,” he says eventually, “you call _me_ a pessimist, but you are downright spooky sometimes, girl.”

Beth sighs.  “I know.  End of the world’s brought out all sorts of weird instincts and premonitions.”

“Helped us out so far,” he says and Beth thinks of the funeral home.  “That’s all that matters.”

“Yeah,” she says.

The fire’s dying out and she stares at the flames as they get smaller and smaller and Daryl slides further and further down as he drifts off, until his head rests on her thigh.

She’s too busy recalling the lyrics to 80s pop songs to even realize that she’s running her hand through his hair.

When he wakes for his shift, she mimics his position before he can say a word and is asleep, the minute her head settles in his lap.

The next morning, Beth wakes to the sensation of a hand curved around her shoulder, and a thumb gently sweeping back and forth.  She squeezes her eyes shut and tries to memorize precisely what it feels like to have Daryl Dixon caress her because the second he knows she’s awake, the hand will be gone and he’ll be up and walking away.

She breathes in deep and sure enough, his thumb stops mid-sweep and then his hand is off her shoulder and his thigh is fidgeting under her head.

“Rise and shine, Greene,” he says gruffly, and she has barely lifted her head up and he’s across the camp.

“There are pancakes, right?” she asks attempting a joke as she stretches.  “And maple syrup?”

“Sure,” he says taking down their alarm system. “They’re on their way, along with some home fries and three strips of bacon.”

Beth groans.  “Oh, Lord.  Home fries.”  She rummages in her pack and pulls out a can of pear halves.  She opens the can and eats two of the pears, then passes the can over to Daryl.

“Used to hate these things,” he mutters before practically inhaling the fruit.

“Used to be a vegetarian,” Beth counters, smirking.  “Funny what happens to a body’s appetite when the dead start walking around.”

They clean up their camp and head on into the woods.  It takes less time for Beth to adapt her walking and she lets herself feel a touch of pride.

Once again, they walk along in silence and Beth catches sight of a small brown butterfly, or maybe it’s a moth, which darts along beside them for a spell, then flies off into the woods.

_Chaos theory_ , the words pop into her head in the voice of her physics teacher.  _Where one thing leads to another and there is no way to accurately predict what will happen next_. _The most clichéd example of this is a butterfly flaps its wings in California and a typhoon hits Hong Kong._

Beth stares after the moth and hopes it doesn’t start any hurricanes in the Gulf of Mexico.

_What happened_ , she wonders, _to get me to where I am now?  Walking in the woods beside a man that I most likely would never have even come across._

She glances at him and smiles to herself.  _Did a butterfly fly left instead of right in Australia, and did that kick up some dust and did that get into someone’s eyes and did something happen after that, then again and again until I’m here?  Deep in the woods of Georgia, crossbow in my hands, with a man I trust more than I’ve trusted anyone else, besides Daddy, at my side?_

Must’ve been a heck of a butterfly to do all of that, she thinks fondly.

She bumps her shoulder against Daryl’s and he looks over at her, eyebrows raised.  Beth just grins at him.  He frowns and shakes his head.  She can practically hear him saying ‘crazy girl’ in his head.  Still…he bumps his shoulder back against hers.

A little after noon, the sun high in the sky, Daryl lets them stop for a minute to drink some water.  He eyes her crossbow.

“Should get you some more arrows for that,” he says.  “You’ve only got the four.”

“Where from?” she asks.

He nods at the woods.

“You mean, branches?” she asks, eyes widening.  “Actual wooden arrows?”

“Put a point on ‘em and they’ll do some damage,” he says.  “We’ll grab some as we go.  Look at the size of the ones you got and look for sticks close to that.”

Beth studies the arrows and rolls them between her fingers to memorize the feel of them.  Then they head off, stopping every so often to grab a branch off the ground.

“Look for cedars,” he says.  “They’re strong and can be whittled.”

By the time dusk rolls in, Beth has found a good ten sticks that should work and Daryl’s killed two squirrels.

“This’ll be the last fire for a while,” he says.  “I don’t know how close we are, but we’ve gotta be catching up to them.”

Beth nods and does her best to savor the hot squirrel.  Sadly, squirrel is pretty darn hard to savor, still she eats all of it.

Daryl inspects the sticks she’s found and only tosses one of them away.  “Too short,” he explains.

Beth watches as he strips them down as best he can, his fingers smoothing down the length of the stick.  He takes his knife to the tip and with a few quick strokes, there’s a sharp point on the end.

“Nice,” Beth says, notching it into her crossbow.  She aims and stares down the sight.  “It’s a little crooked, but it fits in there.”

“Good,” he says picking up another.  “It might not fly as straight as you’d like, but it’ll sink into something.”

“Want me to do them?” she asks as he starts stripping the next small branch.

“Nah,” he says, knife in hand.  “I don’t mind.”

Beth leans against a pine and smells the sharp scent of the needles she’s sitting on and the musky scent of the sap in the tree.

She watches Daryl’s hands as they work efficiently and carefully and she documents each move.  He turns the branch one way and then another, then his knife moves around the end methodically, making a point.

_This you can predict_ , she thinks absently.  _The way his hands move and what he can create.  This is predictable._

Watching the sure way his hands move and the sounds of the knife on the wood lulls her into a daze, until the branch he’s holding snaps in his palm and he curses.

_Not so predictable after all_ , she thinks absently.

“Shit!” he says, shaking out his hand.  “Pressed too hard.  Goddamnit.”

Beth’s over by his side before she even realizes she’s moved.  “Are you hurt?”

“Nah, just splinters is all,” he says rubbing at the base of his palm below his thumb.

“Don’t rub them in!” she admonishes, taking his hand.  She tilts it towards the fire and says, “Better get them out before they get infected.  Move closer to the fire.”

She practically pulls him with her as she scoots closer to the flames, the orange light dancing on his palm.  There they are; she spots three tiny pieces just beneath his skin.

“Can get ‘em out myself,” he mumbles.  “Just splinters.”

“Nope,” she says, her index finger digging in gently just below one of the splinters.  “This is something I’m good at.  Shawn decided to take up whittling one summer and I was the only one who could get them out.”  She wiggles her fingers.  “Small fingers come in handy on occasion.”

He nods and she ignores how he swallows hard and his hand is tense in hers.  She wonders if the tension is because he wants to pull his hand away or if it’s because he _doesn’t_ want to pull his hand away.

“As I thought,” she murmurs working out the first splinter.  “You’ve got a nice long lifeline, there.”

“You going psychic again?” he asks.  “You gonna read my palm now?”

“I might,” she says looking up at him and giving him a smile.  He sort of shrugs his shoulders and adjusts where he’s sitting so that he moves slightly closer to her.  The warmth that floods her cheeks is not due to the fire.

“So, Shawn was your brother?” he asks.

She glances up in time to catch his wince and she nods.  “Yeah.  I don’t mind talking about him, you know.  He was a pain a lot of the time, but I loved him.”  She grins.  “He was always teasing me.  He left Maggie alone ‘cause Maggie’d fight back and fight dirty. But I was such a wimp most of the time.”

She tilts his hand to see better and continues, “This one time, he decided that he was going to see how far he could catapult the heads of my Barbie dolls.  He sent five of them flying into the field before I came up on him and oh, I yelled.  So loud.  Then I went off into the field to find them.  Got myself covered in cowpats, but I found all of their heads and Shawn was grounded for a week.”

“How old were you?” he asks, his head bending close to hers.

“Seven or eight,” she says, not looking up from his hand, not wanting to spook him, and just wanting to feel him close to her.  “But he stopped teasing me as we got older.  He’s the one who taught me how to drive.”

“Yeah?” His voice has gone low and a pleasant tingle trips up her spine.

“Yeah,” she says and goodness, her voice has gone all breathy.  “He said that Daddy would only teach me the basics, while he’d teach me the fun stuff, like how to spot a state trooper and not get caught.  Not that it ever worked for him, he got his first speeding ticket two days after he got his license.”

She works out the second splinter and starts in on the third, marveling at the way they’re affecting each other.  She breathes out, her breath fans over his skin, he shivers and twitches his fingers, those fingers curl in, and his head bends closer to hers and her skin tingles.

All just because she’s breathing. 

_I’m the butterfly now_ , she thinks distantly.

“I didn’t mind,” she says, trying to keep talking and not break the spell she’s managing to weave.  “I mean, it could be annoying how he and Maggie would act all older than me and like they knew better.  Be all protective when I didn’t want them to.  But…”  She curls a finger around his wrist and works at the last splinter.  His head is bent so close to hers, she can feel the puff of his breath on her temple.

“I always wanted to be like them,” she practically whispers, almost coming undone inside by the heat his body is giving off.  “I wanted to grow up to be the one that took care of other people and I wanted to be able to take care of myself.”

“You are,” he says, his voice raspy.  “You do.”

Her finger slips just a fraction and the splinter slides out.  She takes a deep breath and lets it out, then says, “Done.”

Calling on every ounce of Greene tenacity and courage at her disposal, she bends her head just that touch more and presses a slow kiss to the center of his palm.

He sucks in a breath and makes a noise in the back of his throat.  Beth lifts her head to find him staring at her as though he’s never seen her before.

“I don’t know what to do with you, girl,” he says, his voice breaking a bit.

Beth just smiles, her heart full to bursting, and says, “Whatever you want to.  I’m not going anywhere.”

He curls his hand into a fist that rests in her palm.  He reaches out and lightly trails the backs of his fingers down the side of her face, her breath hitches in her chest.

The last log in the fire pops and hisses and they both jump.  Daryl gets to his feet and walks off a few steps and Beth blinks several times, then scoots back to rest against the tree she’d been leaning against.

“I’ll take first watch,” he says after clearing his throat.

“Okay,” she says, turning the collar of her jacket up and laying her head down on her backpack.  She closes her eyes and falls asleep much faster than she expects.

When they head off the next morning, Beth is completely prepared for Daryl to do his usual shying away from her.  But he doesn’t.  He stays close and every now and then brushes his arm against hers as they walk.  It has to be deliberate because his eyes slide to her face every time it happens.  So, she brushes back.

They pause only briefly for water and Beth pulls the map out.  She points to where she thinks they are and Daryl nods.

“We could cut over to the state road that runs here,” she says, pointing to the other side of the tracks.  “Maybe head them off at the pass?”

He nods.  “Might do that.  Want to see the group first, though.  Get their measure.”

“Looking for that big picture, right?” she asks.

“That’s me,” he says gruffly.  “Come on, then.  Time’s wastin’.”

They start walking again and it’s an hour before Daryl puts his hand on Beth’s arm, stopping her.

She doesn’t say anything, just looks at him, but he’s staring straight ahead.  She follows his gaze, but doesn’t see or hear anything.  The trees are whispering above them as branches sway in the light breeze.  Then she hears it.  The steady stomp of people walking and the murmur of their voices.

Daryl shoves her to the ground and she immediately flattens under a low-lying viburnum shrub and he scrambles in beside her, his body half on top of hers, shielding her from sight.  She prays that the shrub’s large leaves will hide them from whoever it is out there.

The footsteps get louder and so do their two different voices – harsh, thick, deep Southern accents.  They must be carrying something with them because there’s a steady sound of leaves being dragged up.

“How far we gotta carry this sack o’shit?” one of the voices asks.

“Here’s fine.  Just drop him.” 

The footsteps stop a foot ahead of where Daryl and Beth are hiding.  Beth can see the black of their boots and she bites down hard on her lip.  Daryl’s hands tighten on his crossbow and he presses his body down hard on hers.

A body drops directly in front of their faces.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Warning for discussion of violence towards women. If you do not wish to read this, just skip to the asterisks.
> 
> Thank you again for your support and encouragement! There’s another cliffhanger, y’all, I do apologize!

A body drops directly in front of their faces.

Beth presses her lips together tightly at the sight of a man who has been severely beaten.  His eyes are swollen shut, an arrow protruding from one socket, and his jaw hangs at an odd angle.  Blood’s smeared across his face and hoodie.  She doesn’t recognize him and spares a second to be grateful for the fact.

She notices how white Daryl’s knuckles are from his grip on his crossbow.

A foot prods the body on the ground.  “Len never did know when to shut up.  Stupid bastard.”

“He shouldn’t’ve lied to Joe’s face is what he shouldn’t’ve done,” the other man says.  “Least he won’t be coming back.  Probably be the worst sort of walker.  All up in your face and clawing at you.”

Their laughter sends chills all through Beth and she presses her lips even harder together.

“How soon do you think it’ll take for us to catch up to those assholes?” the first voice asks.  “I cannot wait to see the look on that bastard’s face when he sees us coming for him and his bitch.  Gonna make him watch.”

Daryl goes real still and presses down even more on Beth.

“Been so long since I had myself a good, quality piece,” the other voice says.

“Pickin’s are slim these days.  Last piece I had was way back when we found that group on the side of the road,” is the reply.  “Damn, that was fine.  Screamed like nothing else.”

Beth’s stomach rolls and she squeezes her eyes closed, shutting out the sight of the dead man in front of her.

“Think Joe will let us all have a turn?” one of them says.

“He fuckin’ better,” the other man says.  “You can bet your ass I’m claiming that bitch for myself.”

“Hell yeah.”  They laugh again and Beth thinks she may throw up or get out her knife and go to town on them.  She wants to grab hold of Daryl somehow, but her hands are trapped beneath her body and are cramping around her crossbow.

“Better get back before the booze is gone,” one of them says.

The walk away, leaving the dead man where they dropped him.  ***

The footsteps recede but they both continue to lie there on the ground.  Beth’s crossbow is digging into her chest and arms; Daryl is a dead weight on top of her.  Eventually, he slowly gets off of her and slides out from under the viburnam.  Beth pauses, then follows and once she’s to her feet she stares down at the body.

Well.

At least they know that they are following a man and a woman and that’s more than likely Rick and Michonne.  Now they know for sure.

They also know what kind of people they’re following.  The body at their feet looks pitiful and wretched.

She looks at Daryl and his face is blank as he stares at the woods in the direction the men went.

“Guess we got their measure,” Beth says quietly.

He glances at her and then away.  Then he turns and starts walking towards the train tracks.  He doesn’t say a word and Beth feels a chill crawl through her and settle into her heart.

She still follows him.

They reach the tracks and Daryl pauses, turns his head to look both ways, then marches up the gravel embankment and over the tracks, heading into the woods on the other side.

He’s still not saying anything and Beth feels the cold stab into her chest.

“What are we doing?” she asks, her voice small.

He doesn’t answer, just walks faster.  Beth picks up the pace and tries to walk beside him but he just speeds up and won’t look at her.

She sets her jaw and keeps up.  After an hour of walking, her legs burning from going so fast, and every muscle in her body stiff from nerves and, quite possibly, anger, they hit a county road.

Daryl stops and looks around.  Then heads off in the same direction as the tracks.

“Daryl,” Beth tries, and his shoulders twitch but he keeps walking.  She tries again.  “Daryl!”

He doesn’t acknowledge her.

“Are you actually ignoring me now?” she asks, her voice rising.  “’Cause that’s real mature, you know.”

He stops and turns to face her.  His eyes are narrowed and she has the urge to take a step back but she holds her ground.

“Mature?” he repeats, his voice soft and low.  “Girl, you still thinking this is some kind of hero’s journey?  You thinking that we’re going to go in and save the day?  You thinking that we’re going to win?  That there are any winners around here?  Huh?  That what you’re thinking?”

“Daryl,” she whispers.

“’Cause there ain’t!  There are no heroes and there are no winners,” he says, stepping in close.  “There are survivors.  That’s it.  And you don’t survive by holding hands and sitting close and telling stories about your dead family.”

Beth feels like she’s been punched in the stomach and a gasp escapes her as she says, “Don’t.  Don’t do this.”

But he’s not done and she can see it in his eyes as he steps even closer.

“If I hadn’t shoved you down on that ground,” he says, his voice just above a whisper.  “If I hadn’t heard them, if I had waited one second longer, do you know what would have happened?  Huh?  Do you?”  He bares his teeth.  “I’d be dead.  I’d be dead and you’d be _wishing_ you were dead, too.”

Tears are burning behind her eyes and in her throat and she can’t swallow them back.  She can barely breathe; it hurts.  It hurts so much, hearing him say it.  And knowing how right he is.

“You want to know what we’re going to do?” he says.  “We’re going to get a vehicle and we’re going to find Rick goddamn Grimes and then we’re going to let him take over.  ‘Cause I ain’t no leader and I ain’t going to be responsible for you no more.  You hear me?”

“I hear you,” she says, staring at him and feeling empty.

“It ain’t about being _something_ out here,” he says.  “It’s about staying alive as long as you can and that means you keep quiet and you stay frosty and you don’t get distracted by-“

He cuts himself off and just stares at her.  There’s a moment when she sees it, all his fear and want and it’s focused on her and she leans towards him, just a fraction.  But he looks away, back towards the woods.

“No distractions no more, nothing but what it takes to live,” he says flatly.

And just like that, she’s furious.  She manages to swallow back the tears of frustration because what can she say?  What can she possibly say to change his mind?  Hell, she’s halfway to believing it herself after what they heard.

But if there is one thing she knows after everything, after losing her family, after seeing pure evil and pure apathy up close, she knows for absolute certain that it takes more than silence and walking sun up to sun down to survive.  And he damn well _knows_ that.  But she’ll be damned if she’s going to waste her breath on him when he’s too afraid to admit how much he needs her.

“Fine,” she says, her voice cold and as flat as his.  He glances at her and she can see the surprise in his eyes.

Oh, he didn’t expect her to fall in line, did he?  Well, that’s just too darn bad.

“You want me quiet?  Fine.  You want a good little soldier?  Fine.”  She steps up into his space and looks at him until he meets her eyes.  “You want me cold?  You got it, Daryl Dixon.”

She steps back when she spots the moment uncertainty creeps into his eyes and just straightens her shoulders, then says, “Well, lead on, then.”

His eyes narrow again and his mouth twists and then he striding off down the highway.  She glares at the angel wings on his vest and follows, keeping a good two feet between them.

By the time they get themselves to the edge of a small town, Beth is just simmering.  Her skin feels stretched tight and her jaw hurts from clenching it.

Daryl turns off the highway into the lot of a gas station.  The windows to the store are shattered and the pieces of glass crunch under their feet.

The sound draws out two walkers from the inside of the shop and they stumble towards Beth and Daryl, arms outstretched, that raspy, gargling sound coming from their chests.  Beth takes aim, but Daryl’s already there, swinging his crossbow at their skulls with sickening crunches.  Beth keeps her crossbow up just in case, but Daryl’s anger reduces the walkers’ heads to nothing and she lowers her crossbow.

He doesn’t even glance at her; just stares down at the bodies.  She waits to feel the urge to go to him, to offer some kind of comfort, but it’s not there.  She just feels drained and empty and cold.

_He’s made his choice_ , she tells herself.  _You are not going to make excuses for him and comfort him because he’s making the choice to be a jerk._

She wonders if she’s being unfair.

She’s not sure she cares.

He goes into the garage and she follows, crossbow at the ready.  He glances at the cars left and Beth wrinkles her nose at the lack of choice.  There’s a small VW Colt that’s seen better days and a pick-up without any tires sitting on concrete blocks.

There’s something small covered up with a sheet in the back and Daryl goes over to it.  He pulls the sheet off and it reveals a dusty dirtbike missing an engine.  He curses and throws the sheet back over it.  Beth steps back when he turns to head out of the garage.

He shoots her a glance that she returns, keeping her expression as blank as she can.  A furrow appears on his forehead, but then he’s out of the garage and walking around the building.

There’s another pick-up parked in the back, weeds and grass growing up around tires.  A dead man is half in, half out of the driver’s side and Daryl carefully eases the body out and to the ground.

He slides into the seat and looks around for the keys.  Beth stands beside the door and flips the visor down.  The keys fall into Daryl’s lap.  He stares down at the keys then turns his head to look at her, his hair hanging in his eyes.  She stares back.

“It ain’t gonna work, is it?” he asks corner of his mouth turning up.

“You know more about trucks than I do, you tell me,” she says shrugging a shoulder.

“Ain’t talking about the truck,” he says.  “Talking about us.”

“Thought we didn’t need an ‘us’ to survive,” she says, leaning against the door.

“Christ, girl, you going to make me say it?” he says banging his hand on the steering wheel.

“Say what?” she says, with deliberate innocence.

He grits his teeth and she can see the muscle in his jaw clenching.  Then he blows out a deep breath and lowers his head.  “I can’t protect you, Beth.  I can’t.  And I don’t know how to make it hurt less when the time comes and I fail.”

To be honest, she’d expected him to either start ignoring her again or maybe mumble some kind of an apology.  She didn’t expect him to actually tell her the truth.  Her lips part in shock, then she says, “Well, ignoring me now won’t make it hurt any less when I’m gone.  That’s not the answer.”

“I know,” he nods.  “I know that.  But what else can I do?  Lock you up in some tower somewhere?”

“That’s what Daddy tried to do and look how that turned out,” she says with a sad laugh.  “Daryl, you do what you’ve been doing.  You teach me how to survive, how to exist in this world, and maybe that will be enough.”

He shakes his head.

“You also need to have a little bit of faith in me,” she says firmly. “I know I’m no warrior, but I’m not useless.  I’m keeping up, aren’t I?”

He nods.

“I’m learning pretty fast, too, right?”

“Yeah,” he mutters.

“And it’s not like we had any guarantees before, did we?” she says.  She puts her hand on his arm and tugs gently until he looks at her.  “I have no promises I can give, but I swear to God, I will try as hard as I can to stay alive.  But you got to promise me that you won’t just ignore me because you’re afraid.  Yell, if you want, go kill a dozen walkers with your bare hands, but don’t ignore me, Daryl Dixon.”

He stares at her for so long, she starts to want to fidget, or play with her hair, something.  Then he says, “You are a fierce little thing, ain’t you?  I don’t know why I’m getting all worried over you.  It ain’t me who’s going be the last one standing.  It’s gonna be you.”

“No,” she says shaking her head and feeling the cold thaw in her chest.  “It’s going to be _us_.  Now, get this truck started, Dixon.  We don’t have all day.  We’ve got surviving to do.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he says and there’s a spark back in his eyes.  Relief just floods her body and she sways against the car door.  He frowns.  “You all right?”

“I am now,” she says grinning.  “Staying mad at you is wearing on a body.”

He smirks ruefully.  “I know.  I’m an asshole.  Sorry about that.”

“You really, really are,” she says nodding.

He shoves the keys into the ignition and the engine catches then stalls out.  He tries again.  “Hell.”

Beth moves as he gets out of the truck and pops the hood.  He pokes around and mutters, “Damn spark plugs.”

She follows him back into the garage and keeps watch while he rummages around.  After finding what he needs, he goes back to the truck.  A walker is making its way towards them from a building nearby.

“Got it,” she says, taking aim.  Daryl nods and starts to work on the truck, keeping an eye on the walker.

Beth walks towards it and when she thinks she’s close enough, she adjusts the bow up and over and squeezes the trigger.  The arrow flies straight into the head and the walker drops.

“Nice,” she hears behind her as she walks to get her arrow.  It’s probably…no, it’s _definitely_ silly of her, but she tosses her hair just a bit and adds some sway to her walk and is rewarded by a low chuckle.  She’s grinning when she pulls out the arrow.

It takes Daryl a good hour and a half to get the truck up and running, so they decide to camp in the truck overnight and head out before dawn.  They eat dinner sitting in the bed of the truck, backs against the cab.

“Don’t want to drive at night,” he says as they eat baked beans out of a can and some corn nuts from the garage store.  “Dead giveaway, headlights on a road.  We get going just before sun up and we’ll make up the time.”

Beth nods.  She still feels on edge and the words of those men echo every now and again in her head.  And really, she’d been expecting Daryl to go all silent on her again at some point and at least they got past it and are talking again.  She supposes that she hadn’t realized just how much it would _hurt_ to have him go quiet and cold on her again.  Thinking about it makes her sick to her stomach and she lowers her can of beans.

“What?” he asks as he pops some corn nuts into his mouth.

“Please don’t go quiet on me again,” she asks looking over at him.  He stills but she goes on.  “I know it’s childish of me and I have no right to ask you to act one way or another, but please.  I’d rather have you yelling and railing at the world for hours than get nothing from you.”

He looks down and frowns.  “Never had no one tell me different before.  Always thought going quiet was better.”

“Maybe it is sometimes,” she says nodding.  “But not when I don’t know why.  Please just tell me what you’re thinking.  Otherwise…”  She trails off.  “Just don’t shut me out.” 

“I’ll try,” he says, looking back at her.  “You’re going to have to remind me, though.”

She smiles.  “Another thing to put on the list.  Am I turning into your keeper, Daryl Dixon?”

“Yes,” he says so seriously her heart does that stuttering thing in her chest.  “You are, Beth Greene.  Like I’m yours.”

What he’s said hits them both at the same time and she can feel her eyes widen just as his does.  If it was happening to someone else, in a movie somewhere, there’d be music and maybe they’d kiss or the credits would roll.  But they’re by the side of a Georgia county highway and she can hear the rasp of a walker out there somewhere and life is nothing like a movie these days.

So, she just grins a little at him and says, “I’ll take first watch.”

The next morning, about an hour before dawn, they head off down the road.  It’s slow-going as they have to maneuver around the odd car or truck stalled in the middle of the road, but it’s still faster than walking.

Beth rolls the window down and tilts her head into the rush of air as the truck drives along.  She hums a line from a Moody Blues song and then sits back.

“Always liked road trips,” she says as they speed past a clump of walkers that stretch out their hands to the truck.  “Liked the rhythm of the roads, laying in the backseat, looking at the sky through the window.”

“Got as far as Savannah once,” he says shifting gears to get around a turned over mini-van.  “My mama wanted to see her sister and she was sober, for once, and took me along.  Listened to Patsy Cline the whole way there and back.”

“ _Crazy_ ,” Beth sings.  “ _I’m_ c _razy for feeling so lonely.  I’m crazy. Crazy for feeling so blue_.”

“That’s Patsy, all right,” he says chuckling.  “And that’s your song, sure enough.”

Beth grins and looks out the window.  She can see the tracks through the thinning trees and spies something that makes her shout, “Stop!  Daryl, stop!”

He slams the brakes on and yells, “Jesus!  What the fuck, Beth?  What is it?”

“Sorry,” she says fumbling at her seatbelt.  “But, I saw something.”

She gets the seatbelt undone and is out of the truck, crossbow in her hands.  She hears Daryl cursing behind her as she walks quickly through sparse trees between the highway and the tracks.  She glances up and down the sharp bend of the tracks before darting over them to stand in front of another of those signs for Terminus.

Beth bites her lip and reaches her hand out to touch the words underneath the sign.  The blood is dry, but it’s something.

“ _Glenn, go to Terminus. Maggie_ ,” Daryl reads out.  “Your sister sure knows how to get someone’s attention.”

“She sure does,” Beth says grinning.  Her grin falters a little.  “She just says Glenn, though.  Does she think I’m dead?”

She looks to Daryl and he goes to say something but the crunch of gravel behind them has him shoving her behind his back and training his crossbow on the people rounding the bend.

Beth has her own bow in hand and her eyes widen when the people come into view.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you so very much to everyone who has reviewed, followed or faved! I’m so sorry I couldn’t reply to everyone – work got crazy busy today. And the reviewer who pointed out that it’s only Rick’s group that calls them walkers – you are so right! I’ll add that to the list of revisions I’ll be making - thank you! 
> 
> I hope you enjoy the update! It’s a shortish one as I believe the next and last chapter (to this story) will be a bit longer.

Beth trains her crossbow in the direction of the approaching footsteps. Her eyes widen when she sees who it is.

Daryl chuckles and calls out, "Y'all are making awful time."

Rick and Michonne spin towards them, Michonne's hand on her katana, Rick drawing his gun, fast as anything.

Daryl holds up his crossbow and says, "Ease up, officer."

"Son of a bitch," Rick says starting to grin. "Knew you'd make it out, man."

Carl peers around Rick at them and starts to smile, too.

Beth steps around Daryl and Rick smiles at her. "Good to see you, Miss Greene," he says.

"Real good to see y'all," Beth says, her cheeks hurting from smiling so hard. "So good."

Michonne just chuckles as they walk towards one another. Rick claps Daryl's shoulder and Daryl nods at him. Beth takes Michonne's hand and can't help but remember the last time she saw her kneeling next to her daddy. Her throat catches but she manages a smile. Michonne just nods and squeezes her hand. Beth looks around and frowns. No Judith. Her face falls and she doesn't know what to say.

"You don't have Judith," Carl's voice, deeper than ever, echoes her thoughts. His eyes are sharp and sad on Beth's face.

She shakes her head. "I don't. I went back to look for the kids, but they were all just gone."

"All of them?" Rick asks frowning. Beth nods. "Maybe they got out with someone else."

Beth remembers the sight of the small shoe on the dirt and doubts that they got away, but can't bring herself to mention it.

Michonne nods at the sign behind them. "If others got out, maybe she's with them."

Rick smirks. "Been seeing Maggie's messages for the last couple of miles."

"Did any of them mention me?" Beth asks before she can stop herself. Rick's eyes fill with something like pity when he shakes his head.

"No, honey, I'm sorry," he says gently. "Just Glenn."

"Right," she says darting a glance back at the sign. "I doubt I'd mention me, either."

She feels Daryl take a step closer to her and she gives him a grateful look.

"Y'all headed that way?" Rick asks indicating the sign.

"Headed your way, actually," Daryl says. He looks at Rick hard. "You pissed off some nasty people, Sheriff."

Rick looks confused then understanding dawns. "Those men at the house?"

Daryl nods.

"We came across the house a few days back," Beth says. She grins at Michonne. "Found your shirt. Then Daryl tracked you when we saw that you were being followed."

"They're following us?" Carl asks. He looks at Rick. "'Cause you killed that guy?"

"Damn it," Rick says under his breath. His hands go to his hips and he shakes his head. "Do it again, though. I was the only one in the house and they were just going to lie in wait to do God knows what."

"Think we know what," Beth says grimly. Michonne raises an eyebrow at her words. "We heard them talking about what they'd like to do when they find y'all."

"And they'll find you," Daryl says. "They ain't that far behind. I thought you'd be further along by now."

"Had no idea they'd bother following us," Rick says looking back the way they came. "So we ain't exactly been hustling along."

"Doubt they're doing it out of some kind of nobility," Daryl says. "Think they're just doing it to do it."

Beth remembers the dead man lying on the ground and shivers.

"We got a truck," Daryl says. "Don't know how long it's going to hold out. Had to replace the spark plugs with ones that ain't really fit for purpose. Could just go."

"Or we stop them," Beth says. Everyone looks at her and she flushes. "What? We could. Hold them up somehow. Stop them from coming after us."

"How?" Carl asks. "Like with traps?"

"Or a fire or something," Beth says shrugging.

Daryl snorts. "Girl, you and your fires."

She elbows him. "Shut up, you helped."

"We missing something here?" Michonne asks smirking and looking between Beth and Daryl.

"Miz Greene can't hold her liquor and goes around setting fire to perfectly good shacks in the middle of the woods," Daryl says.

"I didn't notice you protesting all that much," she retorts. "And who handed me the matches?"

"You got drunk?" Carl asks her, his eyes wide.

"Just the once," Beth says.

Rick laughs. "I don't know whether to scold you or ask if you've got any booze left."

Beth grins at him while Daryl looks down at the ground shuffling his feet.

"We should head on, if we're going," Daryl says. "That group can't be more than a half day away. We didn't drive that far this morning."

Rick nods. "Let's go."

"We're not going to stop them?" Beth asks. Again, everyone looks at her. Exasperated, she says, "I just don't think they're just going to give up."

Rick sighs and looks down at the ground.

"She's right," Daryl says, staring at Rick. "They're going to keep coming after you because they ain't got nothing better to do."

Rick nods. "Then we'd better put as much distance as we can between us and them." He looks up. "I'm not going to pit just us against a group of grown men with who knows what kind of weapons. I can't."

"We match their numbers," Daryl says. "Five to five."

Rick shakes his head. "Not putting Carl into this. Or Beth."

"Hey-" Beth says frowning just as Daryl says, "She can handle her own."

A peculiar look goes across Rick's face while Beth notices Michonne trying to hide a smirk.

"Be that as it may," Rick says slowly. "I think we should move on." He nods at the Teminus sign. "They may have a good defence system set up. Could be helpful."

Daryl grimaces but nods. "Fine. Truck's this way."

They walk across the tracks, everyone darting looks behind them. Rick is walking beside Daryl and Beth falls back to walk with Michonne, Carl in between the two pairs. She can't put her finger quite on why, but she feels disappointed. Maybe it's because she wanted to do something about those men instead of just waiting to see what happens.

Maybe it's seeing their friends again and not seeing Judith with them.

Or maybe it's because that's the end of you and Daryl together, alone, against the world? A voice says in her head.

Hell, no 'maybe' about it – that is definitely making her feel disappointed. If he goes back to keeping his distance, she'll… Well, she's not quite sure what she'll do, but she'll do something.

"So, you and Dixon?" Michonne's voice cuts into Beth's thoughts. "How's that working out?"

"It's been…educational," Beth says somewhat lamely. She makes a face. "That makes it sound boring. It's been…good."

"How good?"

There's something in Michonne's voice that has Beth looking over at her. The woman is outright smirking at her and Beth can't stop grinning back at her.

"Not that good," she says. Then she sighs and mutters under her breath. "Sadly."

"Oh," Michonne says, raising her eyebrows. "And would Mr. Dixon like it to be that good?"

Beth shrugs. "Man's got a darn good poker face."

"He does, indeed," Michonne says.

They walk along and Beth can see the truck just up ahead, a couple of walkers milling around it. Daryl speeds up and starts to take them out with his crossbow.

"Are you okay?" Beth asks quietly as she watches Daryl sink an arrow into the skull of a walker. She glances at Michonne and talk about a poker face. She's not betraying anything. Which is something of a giveaway in and of itself and Beth steels herself for whatever it is.

"I'm okay," Michonne says evenly. She stops walking and turns to Beth, but can't quite look her in the eye. Beth stops, too and waits. Michonne finally raises her eyes to meet Beth's. "I took care of your father. After."

Beth's confused and furrows her brow. Then she realizes what Michonne means.

He'd turned.

After that man had killed him. Her daddy had turned. Her chest feels tight and she looks away into the woods and has to fight down the sobs that are building. She wonders if it hurt. She wonders if he could feel it as it happened. She pictures his beautiful, clear eyes clouding over and it's a good three minutes until she thinks she can talk without breaking down.

She meets Michonne's own clear eyes who have never left Beth's face while Beth was struggling.

"Thank you," Beth says, the words sounding wrong, but she doesn't know what else to say.

Michonne must feel the same, because she flinches slightly. "I'm sorry I couldn't have done more. He…was a good man. Best I think I've ever known."

Beth nods and a few tears slip from her eyes. She wipes them away quickly and glances towards the truck. Daryl, Rick and Carl are standing beside it, Rick and Carl looking down the road. Daryl's staring right at her, though. His finger on the trigger of his crossbow, his eyes narrowed, and his shoulders tense.

"His poker face is slipping some," Michonne says.

Beth manages a small chuckle. "Yeah. Thank goodness. Makes it easier for me."

"Nothing wrong with a challenge, though," Michonne says as they start walking again. "Makes you appreciate it more when you win."

"Not really looking to win," Beth says shaking her head.

"What are you looking for, then?"

Beth sighs and keeps her eyes on Daryl. "Just someone to walk with, I guess."

"Worse things to want," Michonne says, before putting her hand on Beth's shoulder and squeezing it gently for a second.

Beth, Michonne and Carl pile into the bed of the truck while Daryl takes the driver's side and Rick the passenger's side. Beth leans her back against the cab window, her back to Daryl's and they head off.

Carl offers Beth some Cheese Whiz and she sprays some into her mouth while Michonne and Carl grin at each other.

"Talk about missing something," Beth says eyeing them around her Cheese Whiz, over the roar of the wind through her hair.

Carl actually laughs a little.

They make it close to another ten miles down the road, but the engine starts to sputter and Beth can hear Daryl curse in the truck cab.

One thing after another, she thinks as the truck stutters to a stop. Two steps forward and three steps back. Wonder what butterfly set this off?

She grabs her crossbow and exits the truck bed on the driver's side, Daryl's hand under her arm as she jumps down.

He goes to the hood and lifts it, cursing when smoke drifts out. "Engine belt's blown," he says waving the smoke away. "Noticed it yesterday, but thought we get at least fifty miles out of it. Shoulda known better. Chevy ain't made a good truck since the early 90s."

"That there's blasphemy," Rick says coming around the other side. "You saying you didn't always buy American?"

"Course I did," Daryl says. "Don't mean I didn't gripe about them the whole time I was rebuilding their engines."

"Back to the tracks, then?" Carl asks, adjusting his hat.

"Woods," Beth and Daryl say at the same time sparking that look on Rick's face again.

"Yeah," Rick says, that look of his turning amused while Beth just looks back at him and Daryl lowers the hood. He turns to Carl and grins. "Looks like you get to set another snare tonight."

Carl grins back.

Under Daryl's insistence, they don't bother with a fire and just eat cold canned food. Beth still can't quite reconcile the woman she's becoming eating cold chicken noodle soup with the girl she'd been who'd turned her nose up when foods touched on her plate.

She allows herself a second to appreciate how she's changed over the last couple of years. It doesn't make the soup taste any better, but it helps.

"Run into any other trouble?" Daryl's asking Rick.

He shakes his head. "Not since the men at the house. Y'all?"

"Had something weird happen when we were at a funeral home," Daryl says frowning. "Someone'd set the place up like a trap, only to throw walkers at it the next night."

"Jesus," Rick says, Michonne lowering her own can of food to stare at Daryl. "How'd you get out?"

Daryl thrusts his head in Beth's direction. "Her instincts set us off and we left before they came back. Watched the thing from a distance."

"Some weird-ass people out there these days," Michonne says.

"Are we sure we want to go to Terminus?" Carl asks hesitantly. Rick looks at him and Carl just stares back. "I mean, what if they're creeps, too?"

"Chances aren't good, Rick," Daryl says.

Rick nods. "We'll make sure to scope it out first. Then decide. If others in our group are there…"

Then maybe Judith is, too, goes unsaid and everyone goes back to eating. After night falls, and Daryl offers to take first watch, Beth curls up. She tosses and turns, but can't fall asleep. Rolling onto her back and staring up at the dark branches swaying above her, she lets her mind wander.

In the dark, she can let herself be fully upset and angry that Maggie either thinks she's dead or just hasn't bothered to wonder about her. She sighs and tries to tell herself that she can't blame Maggie, everything was out of control at the prison and it's not like Beth is Wonder Woman and she knows how much Maggie loves Glenn, but all the same…

She turns her head and sees Daryl sitting just on the perimeter of their camp, leaning against a small cedar tree.

Well. It's not like she's getting any sleep. Beth quietly gets up and makes her way over to him.

He doesn't look surprised to see her, just scoots over a little so that she can sit down.

"What songs you thinking about tonight?" he asks after she settles beside him; his voice is just above a whisper.

Beth looks at him in surprise. "How did you know I did that?"

"You mouth the words sometimes."

"Hey, now," Beth says laughing quietly. "You're supposed to be asleep while I'm doing that."

"Yeah, well, you mouth them awful loud, so," he says smirking.

She bumps her shoulder against his and then stays leaning against him. He turns his head slightly and she can feel his breath coast across the top of her head.

"Think Rick thinks there's something going on," he says, whisper-soft. "I mean, with us."

"The man isn't wrong," she says. He doesn't respond and Beth holds her breath, staring blankly at the dark woods ahead of her.

"Yeah," he mutters eventually. "Can't tell if it bothers him or not."

"It's not actually his business, Daryl," she says. "Michonne's in favor of it though."

"Knew y'all were talking about it before," he says grumpily.

"We weren't talking all about you, so don't get all swelled in the head."

"What else, then?"

Her daddy flashes in her mind, blood running down the front of his shirt. She stares down at her hands. "Daddy."

Daryl goes still.

"He turned," Beth says, her voice cracking. "After. Michonne took care of him." Damn it, the tears are starting again and she swipes her hands under her eyes. "I hadn't even thought about that. I didn't think…I mean…it was bad enough I couldn't bury him. But…"

She covers her eyes with one hand and presses her lips together, trying to keep everything inside. She's so focused on staying quiet, she almost doesn't hear Daryl's soft, "Come here, baby."

Then his arm's around her shoulders and she turns her face into his shoulder and lets the tears come. She stays as quiet as she can, and lifts her hand to grasp at his vest, her fingers making the leather creak quietly.

She lets herself cry for only a little while, then wipes her cheeks and breathes in and out slowly.

"You okay?" he asks, lips pressed to the top of her head.

"Getting there. Real tired of crying, though," she says. Needing to get her mind off of her father, she says, "Can I ask you something?"

"Am I gonna be able to stop you?"

"Funny. Why aren't you pulling away from me?" she asks. "Now that Rick's around? I just figured…"

Her voice trails off when he doesn't say anything and instead presses a kiss to the top of her head. Happy tingles erupt across her body.

"You figured that since I'm such a pussy when it comes to emotional stuff, that I'd just close off and ignore you again?" he says, his breath warm on her head.

"Well, I might've phrased it a bit differently," she admits.

He chuckles. "Well, ignoring you hasn't really worked out for me in the past and way I figure it, life's getting too damn short to waste it worrying what other people think."

She lifts her head and looks at him incredulously. "Really?"

"Yeah, really," he says shrugging. "I mean, I'm probably going to fuck this up in all manner of ways and you're going to get mad at me and I'm going to ignore you, but I'll pull my head out of my ass, again. Eventually. So, there's still lots of time to screw this up without taking nosy people into consideration."

Beth has to bite her lip to keep her laughter in and just settles back down into the crook of his arm. "So, you're saying that you don't mind if they think we're…something?"

"Guess I don't," he says "Not if you don't."

"I really don't," she says before yawning. "Oh, sorry. You make me sleepy."

"You saying I'm dull?" he asks around a chuckle.

"Yep," she says closing her eyes. "Utterly boring and such a stick in the mud. You'd never participate in any activities like say, burning a house down or eating jelly straight from the jar or wearing a necklace made of ears."

"Lord, no," he says, pulling her closer. "I'm a goddamn upstanding gentleman, Greene. Don't you forget it."

"As if I could," she says, and she thinks he says something in reply, but she falls asleep before she can catch what it is.

The next day the group pushes on towards Terminus, going through woods that are quickly starting to shed their leaves as fall crowds in. One of Carl's snares managed to snag a rabbit overnight, so they may allow themselves a small fire towards the end of the day, but before it gets full dark.

Beth feels something close to content as they all walk along. Michonne's beside her for part of the day, then Carl, then Daryl as the sun sets. They don't all talk much, but there's an easiness settling in that Beth remembers from some of the better days at the prison.

The easiness continues for the next two days.

It's on the third day that things go to shit.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Oh, I hope y’all like this chapter. Enjoy and thank you, thank you, thank you to everyone who has reviewed, followed or faved! I cannot tell you how much it means to me!
> 
> I have included scenes from the season finale simply because I think they were important and while I’ve given Beth her own set of actions, I hope I didn’t take anything away from what Rick and Carl went through.
> 
> I’ve tried to keep the descriptions of violence to a minimum and it doesn’t go beyond what was shown on the show.
> 
> This is the last chapter for this story! I hope to be back next week with the next story in the series: Fusion.

The third day starts with Michonne throwing up in the bushes; Beth by her side holding her hair back.

“Cans of soup must’ve been off,” she says, handing Michonne a rag to wipe her mouth with and a bottle of water.

Michonne just nods.  “Always hated that barley kind.”

She straightens and glances over her shoulder, then asks, “Menfolk still looking all awkward?”

Beth looks over her own shoulder at Rick, Daryl, and Carl standing between two pine trees looking everywhere but at Beth and Michonne.

“Yep,” Beth says grinning.  “Our heroes.  Be still my heart.”

Michonne chuckles, then winces.  “Better push on.”

“Are you sure?” Beth asks, concerned.  “You still look a little green around the gills.”

“I’ll be fine,” Michonne says, stuffing the rag in her back pocket, taking a sip of the water, swishing around and spitting it out.  “Can’t let that group catch up with us.”

“If you’re sure…” Beth trails off.  Michonne just nods and they walk over to the men, who straighten and try to look stoic.

“You okay?” Rick asks Michonne.

“Ain’t the first time I’ve puked after a bad dinner,” she says.  “Ain’t going to be the last.  Let’s go.”

Carl looks especially worried, although he’s trying real hard to hide it.  He hands Michonne his bottle of water and says, “Keep drinking.  Stay hydrated.  That’s what mom always said to do.”

Rick looks at Carl with a small, sad smile on his face and Michonne just nods and takes the bottle.

They all head off, going slower than usual.  Beth’s own stomach doesn’t feel the greatest and she wonders if they should just throw the other cans of soup away.

She gives Daryl a lift of her shoulders when he looks at her.  He falls back a bit to walk beside her.

“You okay?  You looking kinda gross yourself,” he says.

“Now, that’s what every girl loves to hear,” she says chuckling.  “I’m fine, I think.  Stomach’s a little upset, too.  You’d think after all the squirrel my stomach could take a little bit of out of date soup.”  A thought occurs to her.  “Oh, hell. I hope it’s not botulism. Learned about that in health class. One bowl of bad potato salad can wipe out a whole picnic.”

Daryl snorts.  “Stop that.  I’m the pessimist around these parts.”

Beth laughs and grimaces at the rumble in her stomach.  Michonne has paused up ahead to throw up beside a pine tree and Carl’s not looking so great himself.  She sighs.

A little white moth flies past her head and darts off into the trees and Beth frowns.

 _Did you start this off, Mr. Moth?_ she thinks darkly.  _You and your little wings?  Jerk._

Naturally, Beth throws up an hour later, Carl soon after.

“Maybe we should stop,” Rick says, rubbing Carl’s back, while Michonne gives him his bottle of water back.  “Let y’all rest.”

Carl shakes his head.  “I’m fine, Dad.  We can keep going.”

Daryl, who’s hovering beside Beth as she wipes her mouth and washes it out with some water, asks, “Beth?”

She nods.  “Keep going.  It’ll pass.”  She glares at Rick and Daryl. “Why aren’t you two puking?”

“Iron stomachs?” Daryl offers.

“Luck?” Rick adds.

“I hate you both,” Carl groans.

Beth laughs, then groans herself when the laughter makes her stomach roll.  “Oh, God.  Keep walking.  Better when I’m walking.”

They make terrible time, barely covering a few miles, and when the light starts to fade, they come across a beat-up SUV that must’ve been someone’s camp once.  The windows are covered with trash bags and the seats are ripped.

Beth, Carl and Michonne stopped throwing up a few hours back, but Beth has that worn out feeling and her stomach and throat is sore and aching.

She sits down against the tire of the SUV and closes her eyes.  She hears Carl open the door to the SUV and crawl inside.  He shuts the door after him and the sound makes Beth wince.

A hand brushes against her forehead and she looks up into Daryl’s worried eyes.  She smiles.  “I’m fine.  Just wore out.”

He nods.  “Just rest easy. Okay?”

She closes her eyes again as she nods.  Michonne sits down beside her and Beth appreciates the warmth of the other woman’s body.

“Hate feeling sick,” Michonne mutters, adjusting her katana.

“Me too,” Beth says.  “Especially when I can’t be curled up in a bed with a romance movie on the TV.”

Michonne chuckles.  “I’d always catch up on my soaps.  With a big glass of Gatorade and ice.”

“Were you a General Hospital woman?” Beth asks.

“One Life to Live,” Michonne says.  “Let me guess – Days of our Lives?”

“Of course,” Beth says grinning.

“Partial to Passions myself when it was on,” Daryl says from where he’s about to make a fire.  Rick snorts from where he’s going through his pack.

Both Beth and Michonne look over at him and Beth just grins while Michonne shakes her head.

“Knew it,” she says.  She makes a face.  “Could really use a wash.  Feeling all sorts of nasty right now.”

“Me, too,” Beth says, thinking fondly of that hot tub they’d come across.  It’s a credit to how awful she’s feeling that when her mind recalls the sight of Daryl Dixon practically naked, it only musters up a small shiver of appreciation.

“Think there could be a stream round these parts,” Michonne says getting to her feet and strapping her sword to her back.  “Land dips down over that way.  I’ll check it out.”

“I’ll come with,” Beth says standing and grabbing her crossbow.

Daryl stands.  “I’ll come, too.”

Michonne and Beth wave him off.  “Ain’t too sick to not look after ourselves,” Michonne says.  “Y’all get that fire on.”

Daryl salutes her and Beth smiles at him, then follows Michonne.

It feels as though night has come along faster than usual as they head into the woods.  Michonne is silent on her feet and Beth follows suit.

Michonne pauses when the reach a thick copse of small trees, then puts her hand on her katana while Beth lifts her crossbow. Past the trees, Michonne edges down a small embankment.  Sure enough, there’s a small stream.  It isn’t much to speak off and looks muddier than Beth would like, but it’s cheerfully trickling along.

They kneel and splash water on their faces and necks.  Beth shoves the sleeves of her jacket up as best she can to wash her arms off.

“Need to tell the boys,” Michonne says after a good few minutes of scrubbing at her face and mouth.  “They could use a scrub.”

Beth nods, and after one last splash of water, she picks up her crossbow and they turn to head back.  They’re halfway up the small embankment when a shot rings out in the dark.

They freeze.  Beth’s heart starts to race and Michonne flies silently up the slope, Beth right behind her.

The sound of voices they don’t recognize has Michonne stopping several yards from the camp.  She holds up a hand and Beth bites down on her lip to hold in her worry.

“Now, that we have your attention, we can get things started,” a man’s voice is saying, his tone pleasant and amiable and it immediately sours Beth’s stomach.  “We have been looking for you for some time now.”

“The woman ain’t here!” another voice calls out.

“Her pack is,” a third voice calls out.

“Must be tending to nature’s call,” the pleasant voice says.  “Go look around, see if you can spy her.  I want everyone here for our little family meeting.”

“There ain’t no one else,” Daryl says, his voice low.  “Just us.”

There’s a sharp grunt and the sound of a body hitting the ground and Beth sucks in a breath knowing that Daryl just got punched.  Michonne moves slowly and quietly through the trees, her sword drawn and at the ready.  Beth holds up her crossbow, her fingers trembling and her breath coming in short gasps that she’s trying to soften.

Michonne catches her eye and gestures for Beth to look around one tree, while she heads to another.  Beth inches around the tree and looks towards the camp.

Rick is on his knees with a large man with dirty blond hair holding a gun to Rick’s temple.  Daryl’s hunched over on the ground, glaring up at two men who are poised to start hitting him

There’s a heavyset man standing beside the SUV and Beth hopes Carl stays out of sight.  No sooner does she think that, the man opens the SUV and drags Carl out.

Rick and Daryl call out as Carl struggles and Beth tastes blood in her mouth from where she’s bit her own tongue in fright.

Michonne sidles up to her and whispers harshly in her ear, “You start firing that bow of yours and I’ll go around.”

Beth just stares at her for a half a second until what she’s said gets past Beth’s terror.  Then Beth nods and takes aim.  She waits until Michonne has slipped off and then Beth starts edging closer to the camp.

“No!” Rick is yelling.  “It’s me you’re wanting, leave the boy out of it.”

The blond man leans down and says, “You’re right.  It is you we’re after.  You took out one of our own.  Our friend.  So, we’re going to beat your friend over there to death, take the boy, find the woman, and take her, too.  _Then_ we’ll kill you.”

At a nod, the two men poised over Daryl drag him to his feet.  He lands a blow on one of them, but the other man rabbit punches him in the back and Daryl grunts.

Beth takes aim and fires her crossbow.  She’s too far away to actually hit anything hard and so her first arrow just lands on the edge of the camp, near to where Carl is grappling with the heavyset man.

He looks over in her direction and says, “What the fuck?”

The night hiding her, Beth steps closer and fires again.  This arrow lands a bit closer.

She dimly hears Daryl call out, “Stay back!” but doesn’t take that as a command to her.  She keeps walking forward and wonders where the hell Michonne is.

She fires again, this time grazing the arm of the man holding Carl.  He shouts and looks around.

Beth loads and takes aim once more, only to have something grab hold of her hair and pull her back sharply.

She cries out in pain as a horrible voice says, “Looky what I got, boys!”

Beth thrusts her elbow back but it only serves to make the man grunt and pull harder on her hair.

He shoves her forward, and she tries to hit him with her crossbow, but he knocks it aside.  It lands on the ground and he pushes her past it.

“Found her!” he yells throwing her to the ground, near to where Carl is being held down by the heavyset man.

“No!” she hears Daryl cry out hoarsely.

Beth rolls to her back and stares up at the man who is now pointing a gun at her and grinning.

“Claimed,” he says through his grin and Beth cringes back, sliding her hands around in the sand searching for some kind of weapon.  One of her arrows is stuck in the ground two feet from her but when she reaches for it, the man stomps his foot down hard on her arm.  She whimpers in pain as he presses down.

“All in good time,” the man holding the gun on Rick says to the man leering at her. “We do this all orderly-like, now.”

Beth’s body goes still and her mind goes blank and all she can hear is the sound of Carl struggling nearby and fists repeatedly hitting Daryl over and over and she can’t move and where is Michonne and oh God, someone do something, ‘cause she can’t _move_.

The crack of a gunshot occurs behind her and she jumps and gasps so hard her throat burns.  The man on Carl has stopped and is just watching whatever is happening behind her.

She hears Rick moving around and fighting with the other man.  Then it goes quiet and the man holding the gun on her takes his eyes from her and starts to look horrified.  Beth glances behind her and sees Rick, his mouth full of someone else’s blood and flesh.  The blond man’s face slack with death as he falls to the ground, blood gushing from his neck.  Again, it takes Beth a second to realize what she’s seeing.

Then the gleam of Michonne’s sword cuts through the air into the neck one of the men beating up Daryl.

Beth looks back at the man standing above her.  Life slams back into her and she’s suddenly furious and cold, she grabs a fistful of dirt in her hands and when the man looks down at her, she throws it in his face, 

He yells and steps back, his foot coming off her arm.  She rolls to the side and grabs her arrow from the ground.

 _What kills a walker, kills a man_ , Daryl’s voice says in her mind and she on her feet and grabbing the man’s hair as she thrusts her arrow up through his chin into his brain.  Blood spatters her hands and the front of her jacket.

He drops at her feet and she turns when she hears a strange sound behind her.  The first  thing she sees is Daryl as he stomps his foot down on the neck of one of the men who’d been hitting him, killing the man instantly.  Then she sees Rick.

Beth watches as Rick just guts the man that had been hurting Carl.

Michonne is on her knees holding Carl and they’re just watching Rick, who when he finishes gutting the man, just starts stabbing.  Again and again.

Beth can’t look away from it.  She doesn’t even look at Daryl when he limps over to her.  She just grabs hold of him when he drapes himself across her shoulders.  He’s breathing hard and smells of blood and sweat.  Her arm stings and throbs as she holds him up and just watches Rick bring his knife down again.  And again.  And again.

Eventually, she turns her face into Daryl’s chest, but doesn’t close her eyes.  She just stares at the dark pattern of threads on his shirt, listening to the sounds behind her.

* * *

 

Beth spends the rest of the night in a daze.  Once Rick finished, he’d crawled over to the side of the SUV and sat down, staring into space.  Michonne helped Carl into the backseat and the boy immediately curled up in her lap.  She’d just glanced at Beth and nodded once.  Beth nodded back.  Michonne needed to be with Carl.

And that was fine.

Beth and Daryl could clean up.

Silently, they drag the bodies away from the camp.  The one Rick…took care of, they just throw a bit of plastic over.

The movement feels good, it keeps Beth’s mind from replaying everything, stops her from letting the chills that have started in her muscles from taking over.

They pile the bodies up deeper into the woods and out of sight.  They don’t bother to go through their possessions, and just leave them to let nature deal with them.

Dawn is breaking by the time they’re done.  Beth heads down to the stream, Daryl behind her.  It isn’t until she’s watching the water turn pink does she realize how bloody her hands are.  She pulls off her jacket with a pained grimace and looks at where that man had stepped on her arm.  It’s going to be a decent sized bruise and she can almost make out each individual tread from the boot.

She stares at it blankly until Daryl’s hand covers it.  Then she lifts her eyes.  He just stares at her for a moment, then, wetting his bandanna, drags the wet cloth over the bruise.  Beth closes her eyes at the cool touch of the cloth and something in her chest loosens a little.  She takes the rag from him after a few minutes, wets it, and then applies it to his face, cleaning off the blood around his mouth and nose.

He just stares back at her and no one says anything.

Beth fills an empty bottle with water from the stream and hands it to Daryl before they head back to the camp.

Beth meets Michonne’s eyes from where she still sits with Carl in the SUV when they get back.  Daryl heads over to Rick while Beth heads to the edge of the camp and sits down on a large root.  She drops her jacket on the ground and leans back against the trunk of the tree, the bark scraping at her back.  The air is chilly on her skin, but refreshing and she closes her eyes.

She can hear the murmur of Rick and Daryl behind her, Rick telling Daryl that he’s his brother.  A smile twitches on her face.  Good.  Those two men need each other.

After a while, she hears Daryl tell Rick, “That wasn’t you,” then she hears Rick reply that yes, it was and Beth agrees.

It was them last night.  It was them fighting for their lives and she knows that she’d do it again.  These people are _her_ family and this is _her_ life and no one is going to take either of those things from her without a fight.

Not now.

Not ever.

She dozes for a few minutes, then opens her eyes and rolls her head against the tree when she hears someone coming her way.  Daryl sits down heavily in front of her.

She’d smile at him if she wasn’t dead on her feet.  _Ooh_ , she winces internally.  _Bad choice of words, there._

“You okay?” he asks after a few minutes.

“Think so.”  It’s the first words she’s spoke since everything happened and her voice is hoarse.  She swallows.  “Are you okay?”

He nods.

“Heck of a shiner you got there, Mr. Dixon,” she says finally managing a smile.

“Ain’t the first,” he says.  “Probably won’t be the last, neither.  You hurt anywhere else?”

“Just the arm,” she says lifting it a little, then letting it fall back to her lap.

“Thought my heart was gonna stop when your arrows started flying,” he says.

“Didn’t do much good,” she says with a sigh.  She remembers shoving it into that man’s neck and how his body just crumpled.  “At first anyways.”

“Wanted to get to you,” he says, his eyes dark and his voice low.  “I couldn’t get to you.”

“I handled it,” she says quietly.  “Eventually.  I heard you in my head – telling me what to do.”

He looks pained.  “I’m sorry you had to.”

“I’m not,” she says shaking her head.  “So don’t be sorry for me, Daryl.  You may have been trying to get to me, but I was trying to get to you.  And we met in the middle.  It’s how it should be.”

“Ah, Christ, Beth,” he says looking down.  “I don’t want you to have to-“

Beth stops him when she slides off the root and straddles his lap.  He freezes then just looks resigned.

“You gonna sit in my lap every time you want me to shut up?” he asks.

“Seems to do the job,” she says, resting her hands low on his chest, her index finger tracing the curve of a button.

“It does something,” he agrees, his hands settling to her hips.  He sighs and looks down at the large bruise on her arm.

“I’m still here,” she says firmly.  “And I don’t regret what I did.  Do you regret what you did?”

He shakes his head.  “No, I don’t.  Had to be done.”

“Exactly,” she says nodding.  “It did.  We had to defend ourselves and we did and I can’t find it in me to be sorry about that.”  She pauses.  “I guess I might feel sorry that I don’t feel sorry, but it’s not weighing on me that much, so I’m not going to worry about it.”

“Been hanging around you too long,” he says, cupping her face, his thumb smoothing over the apple of her cheek.  “That kinda made sense.”

“I’m a very sensible person,” she says, her voice unsteady and her hands trembling as they curl into the fabric of his shirt.

He keeps his eyes on hers and his thumb is stroking warmth into her that’s spreading throughout her body.

She watches his throat muscles work as he swallows and she says, “I swear to God, Daryl Dixon, if you tell me to ‘hold up’-“

“Not this time,” he says roughly and then his mouth is on hers.

Her eyelids flutter shut and she makes a sound in her throat that he swallows up, her mouth opening instinctively to his.  Her hands struggle for a moment between the crush of their bodies, but then she’s threading her hands in his hair, her nails lightly catching on his scalp.  He groans deep in his chest and his hand palms the back of her head and tilts it slightly to the side, moving his mouth roughly against hers.  His other hand tightly grips her hip and shifts her body closer so that she’s flush up against him.

Beth clutches at his head and shoulders as his hand slides up the curve of her spine and then back down.  He flattens his palm and presses her lower back down, holding her tight against him.  Her pelvis shifts slowly on top of him again and again and she didn’t know she knew how to move like that, but she can’t stop.  All she knows is that she can’t stop tasting him as her tongue slides alongside his.

The kiss is deep, visceral, and everything she’s ever wanted and everything she never knew she wanted.  Her mind is blank of all rational thought a part from:

This.

Yes.

_Now._

She’s not sure how long Rick stands there clearing his throat, until Daryl breaks away from her, grabbing and aiming his crossbow at the other man.

Rick holds his hands up and looks far too amused for Beth’s liking.  She presses her swollen lips together and looks up into the trees above, her cheeks blushing warmly.

“Sorry, just, ah,” Rick says, sounding like he’s halfway to laughing.  “Just figured we’d better move on while it’s light out.”

“Yeah,” Daryl says, his voice deep and husky.  Beth shivers at the sound of it and he clears his throat.  “Be right there.”

“Sorry, man,” Rick says and that is definitely laughter Beth hears.  “Hang a sock on the tree or something next time.”

“Fuck off, brother,” Daryl says giving Rick his middle finger.

Rick just chuckles and heads back to the camp.

Beth can’t help it and she giggles as she hugs Daryl, pressing her face against his neck.

“Oh, my God,” she says between giggles.  “His face.”

“Asshole,” he mutters, but hugs Beth back.  He prods her a little and she raises her head to look at him.  He opens his mouth to say something, but Beth just leans forward and kisses him.  Lightly kissing his top lip, then his bottom lip and then teasing them both with her tongue.

When she leans back, he leans forward, his expression dazed.  She waits until his eyes are clear(ish) and says, “I’m fine, Daryl.  You don’t have to ask.”

“Okay,” he says.  He sighs and presses his forehead to hers.  “Better get a move on.”

“Kiss me again?” she asks.

He groans and then for a few seconds all she knows is his hands on her body and his mouth working over hers.

* * *

They go slow the rest of the day; Michonne and Rick walk in front, Carl close behind.

Daryl and Beth hang back a little.

She tries not to glance over at him and grin, but she can’t seem to stop.  He catches her from time to time and nudges her arm when he does.

Eventually, they come to another sign for Terminus, this one lying on the ground, and Daryl looks it over.

“Can’t be too far from here,” he says.

“Are we really sure we want to go there?” Carl asks Rick.

Rick frowns and looks around.  “I’m not sure.”

“If I didn’t know that some of the others were headed this way, I don’t know that I’d bother,” Michonne says.

“It’s going to be a trap, Rick,” Daryl says, kicking the sign a bit.  “Come on, man.  It ain’t like the odds are in our favor these days.”

“I know,” Rick says with a sigh.  “But if the others are headed this way, I don’t want to miss them.”

“So we stay out here,” Carl says.  “Near the tracks.  Catch them before them go in.”

“Not a bad idea,” Daryl says nodding at Carl.  “Give us a chance to scope the place out, too.”

Rick looks at everyone in turn, Beth nods when he meets her eyes and Michonne does, too.

“All right,” he says grinning.  “We get a bit closer and then we stake the place out.  Council adjourned.”

Carl grins while Daryl chuckles.

They set themselves up not too far from the tracks, Beth and Michonne arranging their alarm system around the perimeter, while Rick, Daryl and Carl go hunting for dinner.

That night, Beth sets her pack beside Daryl’s and when his watch is over, he curls up behind her.  Not quite touching, but close enough so that she can feel the heat from his body.

She smiles sleepily and scoots back so that his chest spoons hers _._   She hears him huff out a breath, but then his arm is around her waist and she falls asleep to the thrum of his heart against her back.

They camp out there for three days before they hear anyone approaching on the tracks.

The End.


End file.
